


Irresponsible

by nep



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nep/pseuds/nep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor wants to see his Romana. Even if it is irresponsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresponsible

Romana was alone, working late in the Bureau of Ancient Records when she heard the noise – a wheezing, groaning noise. She looked around in amazement as a TARDIS, disguised as a large blue box materialised next to her, and a man stuck his head out.

“Uh,” Romana said.

“Hello,” the man said, smiling. He was handsome, with longish brown hair, and wore strange clothes that somehow seemed totally normal. Romana suddenly felt incredibly conspicuous in her Gallifreyan robes.

Romana regained herself. “Can I help you?”

The man beamed from ear to ear in response.

Romana said, “I’m Romana.” Rassilon’s toupee, it was like talking to a halfwit.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said.

“Do I know you, Doctor?” Romana frowned. “I have a feeling I do…”

“You will do, one day,” the Doctor told her, still framed by the doors of his outlandish TARDIS. She idly wondered if the Chameleon Circuit was stuck, or if he was simply an eccentric.

“Ah,” said Romana. “Then, aren’t you breaking the Laws of Time by being here?”

The Doctor looked suddenly upset. “Well, I suppose so.”

Romana said, disapprovingly, “That’s very irresponsible of you.”

The Doctor grinned again. “I am nothing else.”

Romana giggled; she couldn’t help it. He was just so innocent and odd. The noise seemed to help him to relax, and he closed the TARDIS doors and perched on the third step of a ladder. It didn’t seem very comfortable, but the Doctor seemed happy. He was staring at her intently, like he was trying to commit every detail of her face to memory. It was strange, but not as uncomfortable as one would think.

Romana idly flicked her hair in the way that made it look effortless. (The masses did not need to know she had practised it in front of the mirror every day for fifteen years.) The Doctor’s eyes twinkled, as if he knew. They settled into a companionable silence as she carried on with her work.

Eventually the Doctor said, “Well, I suppose I must go.” He stood up and looked at his shoes.

“Oh!” Romana was surprised at how upset she sounded. “Must you?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replied gravely. He looked so sad that she wanted to take him and tell him it would be okay, but she didn’t know how and she didn’t know why he was sad or why she felt sad, and Romana had always preferred books to feelings, so she didn’t.

“I should wipe your memories,” the Doctor continued. “As you said, I shouldn’t have come at all.”

Romana looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m glad you did, though.” She didn’t know why, but she was glad, and filled with terror at the idea of having her memories wiped. Still, she didn’t put up a fuss, and when he laid her down, semi conscious, she could have sworn she felt tears on her face.

Sometime later, Romana was awoken by the sound of a wheezing noise that filled the room. She looked around, and realising she was lying on the floor, leapt up in shock.

“I must be overdoing it,” she muttered to herself, and carried on with her work.

Something was wrong, though. She had a feeling as if she’d forgotten something, but she shook it off. It was only later that Romana realised what was wrong.

Her face was wet with tears, and she didn’t know why.


End file.
